Moonlight Madness

by John R. Erickson

  Loper arrived on the scene. He took one look at me and burst out laughing, and then Slim walked up. Great. The whole ranch had turned out to see me in my moment of . . .

  Well, they got plenty of laughs out of my misfortune. At that point, they might have opened the cage door and let me out, but they didn’t. Slim and Loper wanted to solve the mystery, see, and that took another fifteen minutes.

  I could have solved it in fifteen seconds. I mean, it was obvious, wasn’t it? I had been duped and used by their precious pet coon, but it took ’em fifteen minutes to work out the details.

  Oh, and did I mention that Sally May ran back to the house for her camera? Yes, and took pictures. Just seeing me in my moment of greatest embarrassment wasn’t enough. She wanted pictures of it too.

  Well, they finally opened the cage and let me out. I went straight to the machine shed door and barked. I wanted them to see what their precious pet had done to their tools and shop area, after he’d played his sneaky little trick on me.

  Oh ho! They didn’t think that was so funny. Their smiles withered and turned into deep scowls as they walked through the wreckage.

  Loper removed his hat and scratched his head. “Slim, if we ever find the little scamp again, I think it might be all right if you want to move him down to your place.”

  Slim nodded. “Yup. Course, we’ll probably never see him again.”

  That would have been just fine with me. I’d gotten a good education on coons and that was about all I needed, and if I never saw Eddy the Rac again, I was pretty sure I could survive.

  The boys looked around the machine shed but found no sign of Eddy, so the ranch began to return to its normal state. Sally May returned to the house and the guys had lost their excuse to loaf, so they had to go back to work.

  I know that killed ’em.

  At approximately 11:30 that morning, Slim opened the hood on the flatbed pickup, climbed up on the front bumper, and reached down to pull the dipstick. He was checking the oil, in other words, and his mind was probably miles away.

  You might say that he hadn’t expected to find something furry and alive lurking therein, something that growled at him from the darkness of the darkness.

  You might say that it scared the bejeebers out of him. “Eee-yow!” He jerked back, bolted upright, clunked his head against the hood, and knocked his hat to the ground.

  “Well, I’ll be derned,” he said, rubbing the knot on his head. “I just figgered out where Eddy bedded down when he got tired of wreckin’ the machine shed.”

  I admit that I found wicked pleasure in Slim’s misfortune. He had gotten plenty of chuckles out of mine, so it seemed only fair that I get a few out of his. Tee hee.

  He reached into the motor area and pulled out Eddy the Rac. The coon hung limp in his grip. He looked sleepy and sheepish as Slim delivered him back to the cage, placed him inside, and locked the door.

  Slim scowled down at him. “Little feller, it’s kind of hard to save your life when you keep bustin’ out of your playpen. You’d better stay put and grow a little bit, else you’re liable to get am­bushed by somebody’s dogs.”

  He shifted his eyes to me. Me? Hey, I hadn’t . . . he’s the guy who had locked me in the stupid cage!

  “Like that pack of stray dogs, for instance.”

  Oh. Well, that was more like it. There for a minute, I’d thought he meant . . .

  “Yesterday afternoon, they didn’t seem too concerned about your health, education, and welfare. If I was you, I believe I’d try to postpone my graduation into the real world. It ain’t all that great for an orphan coon.”

  Eddy listened to all this without any change of expression on his face. Oh, he did yawn once, but that was about it.

  Slim found a piece of string and tied it around the cage door, making it virtually impossible for Eddy to break out again.

  “There. Now quit trying to bust out. My reputation around here wasn’t all that great to start with, and you didn’t help it by trashin’ the machine shed.” His eyes came back to me. “You watch him, pooch.”

  Yes sir! I had my orders and I would do my job.

  He leaned down closer to my face. “I don’t know how you ended up in his cage last night, and him running wild all over the ranch, but maybe you can use that bird brain of yours and figger out something better.”

  Bird brain! Okay, I’d had enough. It was time for me to lay down the law to Eddy the Rac.

  Chapter Nine: Laying Down the Law to Eddy the Rac

  After blistering me with his words and eyes, Slim slouched off to the machine shed and began the task of repairing all the damage his pet had caused in the night.

  When he was gone, I began pacing back and forth in front of the cage. Eddy was curled up in a little furry ball and seemed to think that it was time for a nap. Ha! Little did he know.

  For a long time, I said nothing, just paced and gave him hot glares of disapproval. He must have noticed because he broke the silence.

  “Okay. I’m a rat. I know it.”

  “Yes, you are a rat, and the fact that you know it doesn’t make it all right. I can’t believe you pulled that shabby trick on me last night. ‘The cage is an elevator!’ What kind of idiot did you think I was?”

  He shrugged. “The kind that would get into the cage.”

  “Right. The kind who would trust a little sneak like you, but there’s a flaw in that ointment, pal. You can only do that once. Then you lose all your friends and nobody believes anything you say.”

  “I know. I know. Can’t help it. They ought to lock me up. I told you.”

  I stopped pacing and stared at him. “Yeah, you told me that right after you’d locked ME up!”

  “What can I say? I’m a rat. Can’t be trusted. Deserve to be locked up.”

  “Yeah, but are you sorry for what you did?”

  “Sure. Feel terrible. Never do it again, promise. No more late night stuff for . . .”

  His eyelids banged shut and he was asleep.

  “Hey, wake up. I’m not finished.”

  One eyelid parted slightly. “I’m a rat fink. Lock me up. Zzzzzzzzzzz.”

  “If you’d sleep at night, you wouldn’t be trying to break out of your cage. That’s part of your problem, see. You sleep all day and then you want to play all night. Wake up.”

  Too late. He had already checked out and I couldn’t rouse him out of his sleep. Well, that was okay. I had said my piece and stated my position on the subject of his behavior.

  But even more important, I had learned my lesson. It would be a long time before I ever fell for his sneaky tricks again. You can fool Hank the Cowdog once in a row, but never twice.

  I left him there to sleep his life away and went on about my business. I had important things to do—a ranch to run, patrols to make, and heh heh, a score to settle with a certain cat.

  You’ll be proud to know that I caught Kitty-Kitty outside the yard in an unguarded moment. Heh heh. He was sunning himself beside the yard gate and bathing his left hind leg—with his tongue, of course, which is the way cats bathe.

  I, uh, crept up behind him whilst he was not looking and said, “ROOF, ROOF!” in my sternest voice. Tee hee. He screeched and hissed and turned wrong-side out, and then I had the pleasure, the wonderful pleasure, of running him up a tree.

  I loved it.

  Yes, he scored a few measly points by raking my nose with his claws, but that was a hollow victory. The important thing is that I got the best of him and paid him back for being such a selfish, insignificant little creep.

  You’re probably wondering if I managed to settle accounts with my little stub-tailed assistant, the same so-called friend who had left me to rot in the coon cage.

  Yes, I did. For his cowardly behavior, I issued him five Shame-on-Yous and made him stand in the corner for five whole minutes. He was devas
tated, let me tell you.

  Well, after tending to these matters, I moved on to the routine chores of patrolling ranch headquarters, scattering the chickens, and barking at a couple of cars on the county road. (Thanks to Eddy, I had missed barking at the mail truck at 9:45.)

  By then, it was getting along toward sundown, and I happened to be near the machine shed when Slim was loading the coon cage into the back of his pickup.

  If you recall, Loper had “suggested” that Eddy the Sneak might be “happier” down at Slim’s place. Translation: “If you want to keep that coon, get him away from headquarters.”

  Slim had gotten the message and it appeared that he was taking Eddy home with him for the night. I had pretty muchly caught up on my work, so when Slim offered to take me along too, I hopped into the cab.

  After all, he might need some help with security at his place and . . . yes, he did allow dogs to sleep inside the house, although that wasn’t a major factor in my decision to go.

  Down deep, I don’t approve of ranch dogs sleeping inside, but it’s fun once in a while.

  I went along, is the point. When we reached his place, he got out of the pickup and walked around to the back, opened up the cage, and put Eddy on his shoulder. Then he frowned at the cage and scratched his cheek.

  “Now, where do I want to put this cage for the night? Porch would be the best place, only if the coon got out again, we might not find him a second time. Eddy’s pretty tricky about opening doors. Hmmm.”

  He twisted his mouth. “I’d hate to keep him in the house. I ain’t in the zoo business, and that house smells bad enough as it is. Course, I could always take out the garbage. That might help.”

  Whilst Slim was doing all this thinking, Eddy walked around on his shoulders. He went from one shoulder to the other, removed Slim’s hat, and began playing with his hair. Then he played with his ears.

  Slim stopped talking and gave Eddy a nudge. “Quit. I know I’ve got beautiful ears but I’d just as soon you didn’t stick your fingers inside ’em.” He laughed. “Quit. That tickles. Now let’s see, if I put the cage inside the . . .”

  By this time, Eddy had discovered Slim’s glasses. In no time at all, he had one earpiece undone and the glasses swung down across Slim’s face. Slim put them back in place and slipped the earpiece around his ear. Then Eddy reached a paw around his neck and took hold of his nose.

  “You know, pardner, it’s hard for me to concentrate with your paws in my face. I swear, you’re worse than thirteen teenage boys with nothing to do. Now quit and let me figger where everybody’s going to stay tonight.”

  Slim peeled the hand away from his nose. “I think I’d better put the cage inside the house, at least for tonight. Yes, better do that, and quit stickin’ your finger in my ear.” Slim glanced down at me. “He stays busy, don’t he? I feel like I’ve got a trainload of monkeys on my neck.”

  He carried the cage into the house and set it down in the living room. He even went to the trouble of putting some newspapers beneath the cage, which impressed me. It wasn’t the sort of thing I would have expected Slim to think of.

  With Eddy still riding on his shoulder, he went to the cabinet and started pulling out the makings for his supper: Vienna sausage, crackers, ketchup, and some cookies. Leaning against the kitchen counter, he ate and dropped cracker crumbs on the floor and licked the ketchup off of his fingers.

  I cleaned up the crumbs, by the way. Slim didn’t even notice them.

  Just then, the phone rang. Slim went into the other room and answered it.

  “Hello. Yes. Yes. Quit it. Huh? No, I was talking to this coon. He just stuck his finger up my nose. Yes, he’s very entertaining. What? No, I sure didn’t remember it, and I’m glad you called. I’ll make myself a note right now. Bye.”

  He hung up the phone. “Boy, that would have been cute, if I’d forgot that deal. Sally May’s bringin’ thirteen head of church ladies down here for a picnic in the morning. I’ve got to set up a pic­nic ground early in the morning and cut some weeds and do some stuff before they get here. And if I don’t write myself a note, I’ll forget it, sure as the world.”

  He stomped around the house, looking for a piece of paper and then for a pencil. At last he found them, wrote himself a note, and set it on the stove burners.

  “Can’t miss it there, ’cause that’s where I boil my coffee water.” He gave me a wink and a smile and tapped himself on the side of the head. “Smart, huh? Us with weak memories have to use tricks.”

  He went back to the counter and popped two cookies into his mouth. As he chewed them up, his eyes drifted down to me. I was, uh, moving my paws up and down and sweeping the floor with my tail.

  “What? You want one? Do you deserve one? I doubt it.” He pitched me one and I snatched it right out of the air. He smiled. “That’s pretty good, pooch. Try another.”

  You’ll be proud to know that I caught that one too, I mean just, by George, snagged it out of thin air. Then he stuck one of the cookies under Eddy’s nose—Eddy who was still perched on his shoulder.

  Eddy sniffed it. His eyes popped open and he snatched it up in his paws and began gobbling it down. Slim laughed at that, until he began to notice the crumbs falling down the neck of his shirt, and at that point he decided that Eddy needed to go back to his cage.

  He closed the door of the cage and secured the latch, then tied it shut with an old shoelace. Then he stood up and yawned and spoke to me.

  “Well, pooch, it’s past my bedtime. Now, I don’t think Eddy can get out of his cage, but if he does . . . ” He leaned down and looked me right in the eyes. “If he does, I’ll expect you to bark and wake me up, hear? ’Cause I don’t need a teenage coon running a-loose in my house. I’m leaving you in charge.”

  Yes sir!

  “Oh, and if he offers to let you inside the cage tonight, why don’t you turn down the opportunity.”

  Yes, of course, but I . . . there was no need in bringing up ancient history. He’d pulled that deal on me once, but there was no chance that . . .

  No problem. I was in charge of things and he didn’t need to worry about a thing.

  He yawned again and shuffled off to bed. Little did I know . . . well, let’s just say that Slim had probably made a mistake, introducing Eddy the Rac to cookies.

  Never give a coon a cookie.

  Chapter Ten: This Is Pretty Weird, So Hang On

  Slim turned out all the lights and shuffled off to his bedroom. I heard his bed springs squeak. Then the sound of his snoring came down the hall.

  That was my cue to, well, leave my spot on the floor and more or less hop myself onto the couch. That floor gets hard after several hours, don’t you see, and I had learned that sleeping on the couch was much better.

  Yes, I was aware that Slim didn’t exactly approve of my sleeping on his couch, but I knew that he would want me to get a good restful night’s sleep. Down deep, where it really counts, most cowboys in this world want their Heads of Ranch Security to be fresh and rested in the morning.

  Some even demand it. I mean, on some outfits the cowboys actually require their dogs to sleep on couches and chairs and beds and other soft places, because they know that a well-rested dog is the ranch’s best defense against monsters and trespassers.

  It’s the cheapest insurance in the whole world, and even though Slim had forgotten to mention it, I knew that he would want me to be fresh and alert in the morning.

  Taking care of Slim’s insurance needs was much more important to me than my own personal comfort, even if that meant . . .

  Wow, what a great couch! Slim had definitely made a wise decision in telling me to use it. I knew he wouldn’t care about a few dog hairs here and there, because what mattered, what REALLY mat­tered was that . . . snork mirk snicklefritz.

  I must have dozed off. Who wouldn’t have dozed off on such a wonderful couch? What w
oke me up was the sound of . . . something. A rattling sound.

  I raised my head, lifted my ears, and peered into the inky black dark of the inkiness. Darkness. Whatever. It was very dark. The sound appeared to be coming from inside the room—which was not a real good almond. I mean, I couldn’t think of anybody but me who belonged in there.

  I was just about to launch into a withering barrage of barking when I heard . . . a voice? Yes, it was a voice, and it was speaking, and I heard it, and here’s what it said:

  “Got to get out of here. Let me out. Where’s a hole? There’s got to be a hole.”

  That sounded strangely familiar. Hadn’t I heard that voice before? Slowly the pieces of the puzzle began falling into place. You probably would never have guessed it, but I felt pretty sure that the voice I was hearing belonged to Eddy the Rac.

  And no, I didn’t bark an alarm because I knew I could handle this deal all by myself. No need to bother Slim. I slipped off the couch and glided over to the cage on paws that made not a sound.

  Sure enough, there was Eddy, pacing the cage and rattling the door with his hands. It appeared that he was having another attack of Moonlight Madness.

  I sat down in front of the cage. “Excuse me, but you’re making noise and disturbing the house­hold.”

  He stared at me with those beady little eyes. “Oh, hi. I’m locked up. I’ve got to get out of here.”

  I chuckled. “In the first place, you’re locked up because you’re supposed to be locked up. In the third place, just a few hours ago, you yourself said, and I quote, ‘They ought to lock me up.’”

  “I know. But things change. Everything. Chang­ing. All the time. It’s crazy.”

  “Yeah, well, some things don’t change, Eddy, and one of those things is that I’m Head of Ranch Security and I’ve been assigned the job of watching you. If I thought you were going to escape, I would have no choice but to sound the alarm. I’m sorry.”